


Follow You Down

by sneakronicity



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 14:31:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2471633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sneakronicity/pseuds/sneakronicity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Natasha in a coma, Clint is told to stand by but he can't just wait around.  In true Hawkeye fashion he does something stupid instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Follow You Down

**Author's Note:**

> This fic sprung from a conversation I had with Eiluned about how Clint wouldn't just stand around and pour his heart out, he would go do something stupid instead. This is also dubbed the "anti-death fic" because I swore I would give it the most sappy, cliché ending ever because they deserve it, dammit. No character death here.

“They said I should talk to you.That you might hear it or something.”

Clint stood in the dimly lit room, the bruises on his skin looking harsher in the darkness.

_Bruises,_ he inwardly scoffed. _Bruises and scrapes and she’s like this._

He shifted closer to Natasha’s bedside where she had lain, unmoving, for the past six days, the rhythmic beeping and breathing the only sound in the room for a few minutes until he heaved a shaky sigh.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say,” he muttered.Hesitantly he touched her hand, hating how cold her skin felt, hating how pale she was, hating the stark white bandage covering her vibrant red hair.“You shouldn’t be here.I shoulda saw him coming.”

Clint had been driving while Natasha had been shooting back at their pursuers.He wished it would have been the other way around, that their roles had been reversed and it was him in that bed.

_If roles were reversed we wouldn’t be here at all.She would’ve seen it coming._

He couldn’t know that, of course, but guilt was a powerful thing.She hadn’t been strapped in, her focus was on the two vehicles chasing them.Clint had been watching the road, watching their pursuers, trying to cause as little civilian harm as possible.He hadn’t seen the third vehicle until it was too late, until their car was impacted and careening out of control.The next thing he knew Natasha was no longer with him, her seat empty, the windshield shattered.That was when backup had arrived.A minute earlier they could have saved her the pain entirely.

A minute later and they might have both been finished off, but that thought didn’t even cross his mind.

“I can’t do this,” Clint suddenly exclaimed, releasing her hand.“I just...” his voice trailed off.Words were never really his strong suit.Give him something to fight and he was a force to reckon with, but told to stand by, to just watch her so weak and talk to her in hope that she might hear him... “I can’t.I’m so sorry, Nat.”

Leaning down, he placed a soft kiss to her lips before leaving the room.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Three men dressed in identical tracksuits stood outside of the apartment building, looking up at one particular window.There was no light on inside and there hadn’t been for days, a fact they found particularly interesting.

“I tell you, bro, he’s gone.Building’s unprotected, bro,” the first man said, zipping up his jacket.

“No way, bro.Bro, he’s just playing us, bro,” the second answered, shaking his bald head.  

“No, bro, he’s right.Been a whole week, bro.No archer man,” the third chimed in.

“Let’s take it, bro. Want my dog back,” the first stated with conviction, taking a step toward the building.

“Nobody’s taking my dog.”

The three men turned at the unfamiliar voice, surprised to see the topic of the discussion standing right behind them.

“It’s Arrow Guy!” the second one exclaimed in an accusatory tone.“I told you he was only playing, bro!”

“That’s Hawkeye, _bro,_ ” Clint replied before launching himself at them, fists flying.He could have easily taken them all down in the blink of an eye with his arrows, but this wasn’t about that, wasn’t about winning.He wanted the fight, wanted the pain; he wanted to feel his knuckles split against someone’s teeth, wanted to feel his jaw ache as their fist connected.

Even though the odds were against him he held his own.His lip was spit, his eye swollen, his ribs bruised, but he managed to take down one thug, breaking the man’s leg, and was just finishing off the second when the crowbar struck him on the head and the whole world went black.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

“Clint... coming to... hear...?”

The voice was muffled and kept getting drowned out by the rhythmic beeping that seemed to overpower everything, echoing loudly and painfully in Clint’s head.He didn’t know where he was, barely knew who he was, and the beeping made it impossible to think.He wanted it to stop, needed... needed silence.Needed... needed to think.Needed... needed _her._

“Tash...” he started to say, but just that one syllable sent him into a coughing fit that wracked his body painfully.He couldn’t stop, couldn’t breathe, could only gasp, clutching at his ribs with one arm, panic dragging him under when he found he couldn’t move the other.Could only open one eye, couldn’t see through the haze of tears.Couldn’t stop, couldn’t... couldn’t breathe...

“Nurse!” a voice shouted.A moment later Clint felt something extremely cold running up his arm, like ice water in his vein, and then nothing.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

The next time he awoke it wasn’t so much waking as drifting on a sea of painkillers.Everything felt fluffy and light, and he swore the beeping had been replaced with carousel music.He started to hum along.

“You sound better,” a voice said and Clint cracked one eye open, grinning stupidly when he found Steve at his bedside.

“Feel awesome,” he croaked.“Like flying.Like a hawk.”Giggling, Clint’s hazy gaze shifted when someone else scoffed.

“Fly?You’re lucky you can walk,” Tony chided him.

“Walk, skip, jump... fly,” Clint continued, unfazed, a dreamy quality to his voice.“Crowds’ll cheer.”

“Yeah, they’ll cheer, alright.Cheer for the clown who got his head almost caved in because he was bored.”

“Never liked clowns,” Clint pouted.“They tried to ride the monkeys while the elephants ate their hats.”

Steve and Tony exchanged a look and the latter shrugged.It was the last thing Clint saw before drifting off again.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

“Nat... so sorry.Shoulda... please... don’t leave me...”

All he felt was pain, cold, but he swore he heard an answer before the darkness took him...

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

_“I need you, Clint.Please, wake up.”_

Nobody needed him.He always failed, always disappointed.He had failed _her._

_“I heard you.You brought me back, and like hell I’m going to let you check out on me.I will drag you back if I have to.”_

He had never been worth fighting for; he was the one that was always betrayed, used and abandoned.Cruel tricks.Lies.Clint ignored them and surrendered to unconsciousness once more.

_“Don’t you dare leave-”_

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Time passed unobserved, but the next time Clint was aware he was awake the pain had lessened, though it was still very present.More importantly his head felt clearer.

For several long minutes he lay awake with his eyes closed, just taking in his surroundings.There were soft voices talking, but he couldn’t quite make them out, couldn’t identify them.The machines were quiet.

While he had been out he had heard things, dreamt things, but he couldn’t guess which were real, what was a dream and what was reality.He did know he had been badly injured, but that wasn’t why he was so afraid to finally open his eyes and face reality.He was afraid of what news awaited him when he did so.

He took a moment to assess his injuries.Right eye swollen, left arm bandaged, possibly broken.Left leg injured but no cast.Several bruised ribs.Then, of course, the head injury, but he was awake so hopefully no permanent damage there.There were other cuts and bruises that he decided to try to count.

Finally he couldn’t hide any longer.

“Get the number of that train?” he asked, his voice scratchy and barely more than a whisper.He heard a gasp and slowly opened his left eye, the right one still mostly swollen shut.He didn’t try to force it, he could see well enough to find that it was Steve again at his side, and he never thought he would ever be disappointed at having Captain America’s attention, but that wasn’t the face he wanted to see right now.

“Morning, soldier.About time you woke up,” Steve said, his expression one of pure relief.“You had us worried.”Filling a glass of water from a carafe on the bedside table, he helped Clint take a few small sips.

“Sorry, not one of my brightest moments,” Clint chuckled, wincing as his body reminded him that laughing was not a good idea right now.Hearing an indignant snort from the other side of the room Clint steadfastly kept his eye on Steve, not ready to deal with Tony’s brand of bedside manner right now.“I just... I couldn’t just sit by and wait.I couldn’t-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Steve cut him off.Clint was clearly getting distressed and that wouldn’t help his recovery.“Just relax.There’s someone here that wants to talk to you.”

Closing his eye for a moment, when he opened it again he was surprised to find Steve grinning at him, a grin that was more knowing than relieved now.Steve nodded to the other side of the room before walking toward the door.“I’ll go update the doctor.”With one last nod he was gone.

Silence reigned.Clint had been expecting someone else to speak, but it was clear they were waiting on him.He thought of the voices he had heard while he had been out, that one in particular, the things she had said.Dare he hope?Heaving a deep, shuddering breath he slowly turned his head to the right.

“You’re an idiot,” Natasha said, finally breaking the silence.She was sitting up in a second bed just a foot or two from his own.Her bandages were mostly gone but she still looked pale and tired.It was the look in her eyes, though, that caught Clint’s attention, and how they seemed to shimmer damply even in the dim lighting.“What the hell were you thinking?”

“Tasha-” was all that Clint managed to get out, his voice choked with emotion.

“Don’t _Tasha_ me,” she spit back, her own fear, anger and relief bubbling to the surface and threatening to overwhelm her.“Do you know how many times over the years I’ve thought I lost you?And every time it tears me apart.”

“I didn’t-”

“Don’t.I don’t want to hear it,” she cut him off solidly, leaving no room to argue.“Just know that if you ever do this to me again I will kill you myself.”

Silence fell once more, but Clint found himself smiling in spite of it all.Smiling because of her words, smiling because she was alive and awake; smiling because of how much she clearly cared.

After some time Natasha finally returned it.

“I’m sorry,” he said after that sign that it was safe to speak again.He meant it in so many ways and for so many things.The words themselves could never be enough, but he knew she would understand, that she would read everything into them that he was trying to convey.

“I know,” she said, her voice sounding tired now that the fire had died down.

“I just... waiting around... the thought of losing you...” Clint stopped to swallow thickly, unable to complete the thought.

“I know,” she said again, saving him the trouble.For a long moment they just just looked at each other, their eyes saying more than their words ever could.

“Natasha, I...”Again he trailed off, letting her finish the sentiment for him.

“I know,” she responded one last time.Slowly she reached out to him and he was grateful she was on his right so he could take her hand in his.“Me too.”

When Steve returned with the doctor he found both patients resting, their eyes closed, their expressions relaxed, and their hands still clasped between them.He had no doubt that they would both come out of this stronger.Their greatest strength was each other. 

 

 


End file.
